


You've got time

by tapedlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Bottom!Harry, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Prison, Shower Sex, Sneaking Around, Top Louis, Voyeurism, too many tags, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tapedlou/pseuds/tapedlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Harry fawning over Louis in prison and not knowing what to do with himself</p>
<p>loosely based on Orange is the New Black</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've got time

 

Harry fucked up. He fucked up so badly, he was squatting over a dirty tile of floor with a flashlight halfway up his ass, coughing for a man who smells like month old cheese. His clothes were sealed in a plastic zip up, locked in a file cabinet. Once he was given the all clear, Harry covered his junk and ran over to his new clothes and threw them on. He walked on weak knees to the front of a white wall for his ID picture and tried to give his best grin without looking six or like a cocky pedophile. When he got his ID, his nervousness showed.

The atmosphere of the whole place was overwhelming. He's seen it on numerous documentaries and TV shows but nothing compares to actually being in _prison._  Harry was in fucking _prison_ of all places. Not even like a high quality rich prison. A middle class, regular prison. He wasn't expecting a five star hotel, but he also wasn't expecting a guard to get jelly doughnut on his jump suit when he got a final pat-down. The walls were painted tan, but areas of white were still showing from the previous paint job. The floors were a nasty white tile with dust flying over them, like the basement of a under budget elementary school. Harry was led down a corridor to a small room that looked to be an office, and pushed through the wooden door.

"Harry Styles, inmate number 81A3828. Charged with..." the guard that led him read off his clipboard.

"Got it, dismissed." A very fat man looked up from the desk and lowered his glasses. He sat back in his chair and examined Harry up and down. Harry suddenly became aware of how his jumpsuit was too snug around his shoulders, and too loose around his hips. There were no strings around it for however many reasons Harry could think of, and one of his socks were taller than the other. He already missed his rotten old brown boots, even more so when he looked down at his clunky black sneakers without laces.

Mr. Hem (from what his name tag said) looked up and waved someone standing in the back corner. Harry tensed up. He read that there's more fights in prison than on the street. Harry was a big guy, but he wouldn't hurt a fly. A little blond boy galloped out from the dim corner, and Harry let out a breath. This guy probably got put in for stealing a puppy from PetSmart.

“Niall, show...”

“Harry.”

“Harry around the prison. He's sharing a room with you,” Mr. Hem said.

“Swag,” Niall threw up a gang sign.

Harry cringed. He didn't want to share a room with a wannabe gangster. Harry felt bad as soon as he thought that. He took it back.

Mr. Hem waved Harry and Niall away, and the guard opened the door to the office. Harry followed Niall out silently.

“I'm Niall, I'm here for,” Niall waves his finger in the hair, counting silently. “About eighteen months now. Jesus Christ that's a short while to go. As soon as I get out of here I'm gonna get laid so hard I'll see the light.”

Harry giggled. Shit, he's not supposed to giggle in prison. He laughs like a man. Niall looks at him weird.

“Anyway, what are you here for?”

“Are you supposed to ask that? I saw on a TV show that you weren't supposed to ask that,” Harry says, looking around. Everyone is staring at him. He doesn't feel uncomfortable, he likes the attention, maybe just not from tall men grinning at him from the corner. Definitely not.

“I don't give a shit if you're supposed to ask that or not, 'm curious,” Niall leads them both around a corner into what looks like to be the sleeping quarters. There are mid rise walls separating different rooms with two beds and a small table. Bars line the windows, but it isn't badly lit.

“I uh... assaulted an officer,” Harry scratches the back of his neck.

“No shit?” Niall laughs. “Did you like, get into a fight with him or something?”

Harry smiles softly. “No, no I uh, peed on him.”

“There has to be a story behind this, please share” Niall grins and throws himself onto his bed, leaning forward on his knees to hear Harry better.

Harry sits on a dusty bed and waves his hand in front of his face to clear the air.

“I was drunk, and peeing into a bush half naked, and the officer came over to tell me to knock it off, and I turned and just...peed,” Harry bites his lip.

“That makes my story the most boring one here. All I did was grow weed for my girlfriend at the time—a great fuck she was too—and they caught me harvesting the day's crop on a drive by. A shit way to go down too, didn't even get laid before I left. Fuck, I think your story is even better than Louis's.”

Harry picks at his nails and blushes. Niall stands up and holds his hand out to Harry. Harry instantly feels at home with Niall. He seems loyal. He must be loyal enough to grow weed for his girlfriend and even more so to end up in prison for it. Niall's hair is blond, but it's showing brown at the roots and he has a gleam in his eyes you wouldn't expect to see in a prison inmate. Niall is the definition of friendly Irishman.

“If you're gonna be here, you might as well make some friends.”

Harry stands up and walks out of the cubicle. He tries to stand with good posture to look intimidating. It fails, however, Harry's always had a slouch and he just can't help it anymore. He looks into each of the cubicles, and gasps a little when he sees the one right next to his. It's the messiest thing he's ever seen; one side has artwork taped to the block wall, and the other side is the extremely messy side. The one opposite the wall of Harry's bed. If Harry finds flies flying around his head at night, he's breaking out of this place. The mattress isn't even fully on the bed, and the blankets have stains of god knows what all over. The table next to the bed has magazines and toothpicks and ugh, Harry can't even stand to look anymore. Niall continues to lead a mentally disturbed Harry around the prison all the way to the cafeteria, where everyone looks to be having dinner.

“You can grab a tray there and get whatever you want from the line, but if you take more than a scoop Liam will have your neck,” Niall says, grabbing a tan tray. Everything in here is tan. Tan walls, tan blankets, tan food. Harry thinks he's going to go crazy.

He scoops assorted foods on to his place which don't look too bad from what he sees, and thanks the man behind the counter. The man beams back at him and hands him a pudding. Harry smiles back and follows Niall to a table in the back with only two other people at it. Harry sits next to Niall, across from the two other people at the table, he doesn't look up until someone asks who he is in a high, fast, _loud_ voice. Harry looks up to meet the most beautiful man he's ever seen in his lifetime. Bright eyes shaded by long, dark eyelashes held just above small dark bags under his eyes. His hair was sloppily cut and it shaded the corner of his right eye, but he brushes it out of the way every few seconds. His eyes widen in curiosity when Harry looks straight into them. He has scruff Harry would kill to have raked all over his body at the moment, and fuck, his body. He's a shade of tan that Harry actually doesn't mind, and his biceps are fucking huge. Harry crosses his legs.

“This is Harry. He assaulted an officer,” Niall beams.

The boy next to the beautiful one looks up and  _fuck_ are all the people in this place models?

“Fucking sick story behind it too, peed on him and didn't even stop 'till he was finished. Probably better than your story, Louis.”

_Louis._ What a beautiful name. Harry could have it tattooed on his arm. He could write a 200 page story on this boy. Harry thinks he's in love.

Louis scoffs, “No one's story is greater than mine, besides Zayn's,” Louis nudges the boy beside him, “But we will never know that one, will we?”

“What did you do?” Harry manages to spit out without making a complete love struck fool out of himself. He was being ridiculous. He only just met Louis. Get a grip, Harry. 

“I spray painted Tesco. A giant penis plastered right under their sign. They asked for it, anyway. All I wanted was a dildo to satisfy my needs, but no, they didn't sell them. What kind of store doesn't sell dildos? One that deserves a good makeover, I'd say,” Louis waves his plastic fork full of salad in the air.

Harry bites his lip and pushes the soggy salad around on his tray. He doesn't want to say anything stupid, he wants to be intimidating and manly. Maybe a little seductive. He'll save that for later.

“Hola, amigos! Who's this fine piece of man you've got here?” A tall, lanky man asks, sliding in next to Harry. Harry barely catches Louis sighing under his breath, but he does.

“This is Harry, he's new,” Louis says, taking a bite of hit hard boiled egg. Harry tries not to stare at him eat, he really does.

“Harry eh? Well I could just eat you up,” He whispers into Harry's ear. Harry shivers. “'M Nick by the way. Nick Grimshaw. Always at your service. They don't call me 'daddy' for nothing,” Nick smirks. Harry gets a glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

His teeth are fucking huge an obnoxious, and his face may be a little too big for his head and he's got a quiff high enough to match his ego, but Harry's never one to judge right away, so he'll give him a chance. Harry can take care of himself. Maybe he'll spread a rumor he killed some people just to get some street cred. Yeah, that'll be nice.

“No one calls you that,” Louis mutters under his breath.

“What's up your ass today? Tommo?” Nick reaches over the table and ruffles Louis's hair. Louis rolls his eyes.

"Sadly noting," Louis sips his water. Harry chokes.

“Listen, again if you need anything just call me, alright?” Nick smiles at Harry and Harry genuinely smiles back. Maybe Nick is just friendly, and likes to make jokes when he's meeting people.

“Twat,” Louis says when he leaves and takes a sip from his plastic cup. Louis obviously doesn't think so.

Harry decides not to comment and quickly finishes eating his salad, not being able to trust himself around a god. He's finished the tour of the prison, but he still wants to meet people. Niall notices Harry is finishing up and stuffs the last of his sandwich in his mouth before standing up and walking to the trash bin on the outer wall. Harry didn't notice before, but there's a guard on every wall, and two more watching the door. He wonders how much they get paid.

“Anyway, 'm gonna show Harry around more before light's out. See you guys around,” Niall says and Harry waves goodbye. Louis waves back and Zayn grunts.

Harry follows Niall out the door after getting a pat-down from the guard, and is led down another hallway to a large open room.

“This is where most people hang out, so I figured it was the best place for you to meet people,” Niall says and leans up against a wall.

Harry tries to cross his arms to look tough but ends up looking like an angry toddler on the verge of throwing a fit.

“That's Josh, he's pretty nice but sometimes hangs around the wrong people so I wouldn't be around him too much,” Niall points to a short but muscular boy in the middle of a bad ass looking group. Harry nods and listens to Niall talk some more. It's oddly relaxing, you know.

“That's Andy. He's Liam's mate and is pretty quiet, but if you get him angry he'll beat you up. Not even kidding, he got two more years for using his lunch tray to give a guard a concussion just because the guard tried to take his pudding privileges.”

Harry giggles. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that. Prison isn't for giggles, it's for getting ripped. Also for serving time and thinking about your mistakes, but.

“That's Sandy, he's in the bunk right across from ours. He's good for advice, but don't bother him when he's writing.” Niall points to a guy muscular only in the arms with a half shaven head. Harry wonders if he should get a manly haircut. No, he likes his long locks, He finds it relaxing to braid them. He also has a hair pulling kink, but let's save that for when he is released to the public. Harry is beginning to worry if he'll survive here for the next 17 months.

“Oh! That's Stan. He's Louis's boy. Kind of. Louis tried to get a good fuck out of him, but that boy is straighter than the bars that line this hell-hole. I don't know why Louis liked him, he looks like a tropical fish,” Niall grins.

Harry covers his mouth to keep from laughing too hard, but can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Louis liked Stan? Does Louis still like Stan? At least Harry knows Louis is gay. That could work. Maybe. Harry doesn't want to get his hopes up. Prison hasn't been too hard so far, he thinks he can survive it. The people are much nicer than what he thought, but he hasn't met all of them yet.

“Anyway, you're gonna want to shower before bed, they're always crowded in the mornings, and at this time everyone is busy elsewhere. Just grab the towel from your bunk and you can sleep in just your undershirt and boxers if you want, the guards don't give a shit.”

Harry admires Niall's carefree attitude. He's glad he met him first.

Harry and Niall walk back to their bunks as Niall whistles god knows what. An awful whistler, he is. Harry grabs his towel and shower shoes from the bag of stuff they gave him when he came in and walks to the showers alone. Niall said he'd catch up with Harry sooner, that he's gonna try and smuggle a chocolate bar into his pillowcase for a midnight snack.

Harry somehow manages to get to the almost empty bathroom without tripping over himself or accidentally taking heroin, and he takes that as a major accomplishment. Prison goals achieved. He waits at the door of the shower area for the guard to check him in and give him a key to his bathroom locker before he steps in the damp room. Harry almost feels the mold growing from the ceiling.

Harry strips of his clothes and locks them in the locker, then takes his towel with him to the stall. There's a door to the shower stall, shielding only from his pecs to his mid thigh, giving him little privacy. Harry drapes his towel over the cement wall on his left, and turns on the water. Immediately it turns scalding hot and Harry hisses before turning it back down low. He's surprised he hasn't cried yet; he's been taken away from his mother and sister for a fucking year and a half all for getting drunk and missing on an officer. A very angry officer, apparently. Now here he is, using shitty shampoo that smells like cheap, dry soap and trying to clean himself. He's just glad that the rumors about 'don't drop the soap' aren't true. Although he wouldn't mind dropping the soap in front of Louis.

Harry shouldn't be thinking about Louis, nor anything attached to Louis. Prison romance is not good. Prison romance is stressful. Prison romance is _wrong_. Not to mention Louis doesn't even _like_ Harry. Louis likes Stan.

Harry turns the water off and wraps the towel around his waist. Louis isn't good for Harry at this point. Louis and his stupid smile and stupid voice and stupid body and Harry should have kept the water on cold for longer.

Harry walks to his locker and reaches up to get his clothes. He wishes he could just lay out naked and air dry but that clearly isn't an option here. _Why_ did Harry have to urinate on that officer? He slaps himself on the head. He quickly dries himself off, afraid someone will walk in while he's naked and see. Harry's never been a shy person with his body, but something about men aged 18-60 watching him dress makes him uneasy. Unless that person was Louis. Stop.

Harry puts on his clothes and sticks his shower shoes in his locker and locks it back up. He's just about to leave the room when he rounds the corner to the next spot of lockers and _oh._ Louis is there, and he's... naked. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Harry can not do this right now. Too much is happening. His head is spinning. How does he get into situations like this?

“Alright, mate?” Louis asks and turns towards Harry. He fucking _turns_. Full frontal to face him.

“Erm... yeah. Jail stuff just getting to me, yeah,” Harry stutters.

“Oi, it's prison, not jail. We're not in cells behind bars,” Louis raises his eyebrows. His beautiful, curved eyebrows. He has a freckle on the right side of his forehead. Harry wants to lick it.

“Yeah, prison, yeah,” Harry stammers and tugs on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You know your bed it just a three foot tall cinder block wall away from mine, you can stare all you want when I'm asleep,” Louis smirks and turns back to shut his locker.

Shit, fuck, cock-sucking motherfucker of all things good that boy has an ass. So round, so perky. Harry could fit it in his hands. Harry wants to shove his face in it. Harry needs to leave.

“Yeah,” Harry stammers and runs out the door.

Did he just say _'yeah'_? Did Harry just say _yeah_ to watching Louis sleep? Is Harry the biggest idiot to ever walk this earth? _Yeah._

Harry's growing hard. Harry should have wanked in the shower.

He waddles back to his bunk and crawls under the thin scratchy blanket. He's such a fucking idiot. Being around Louis is no good for him. He needs to divert his attention away from the beautiful round bummed monster.

“Lights out!” One of the guards calls from the end of the room.

The lights shut off just as soon as Harry hears Louis climb into bed just a cinder block away. Harry is just about to take care of his semi when he hears Niall open the candy bar from a few feet away. This was going to be a long 17 months.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've posted on ao3 and I don't really have a plan for it so lets just do this


End file.
